Chapter 10: Welcome To The Family

Kiera's POV

"You look really, really beautiful."

I looked down at Jayden, who was sitting on the edge of the hotel bed in a small suit, looking up at me with those ice-blue eyes wide open.

"Thank you, baby." I smiled.

"Like a princess." He tilted his head. "But cooler than a princess."

"My son is so sweet." I said.

"You're welcome," He swung his legs. "Can I come?"

"Baby, we talked about this." My voice was rough.

"I know, but..."

"Jayden..."

"I just want to see..." He stopped. "At least I get to see Daddy today, right? Because he'll be there and I can..."

"You're not coming to the ceremony." I said.

His face fell. "Why not?"

"Because it's complicated," I said. "So you're going to stay here with the nanny and you're going to be perfect, yeah?"

"Will you come back after?" He asked.

"I'll come straight back." I said.

"Promise?" His face lit up slightly.

"I promise." I smiled.

"Mama. " He slid off the bed and walked toward me slowly, stoped in front of me, reached up and took both my hands in his small ones. "You look really pretty and I'm sure Daddy's going to think you look beautiful too."

I pressed my lips together, didn't say anything.

"I'll see you later," I kissed his forehead and walked out before I could change my mind about all of it.

The car moved through the city and watched through the window and tried not to think.

The media had gotten wind of everything, of course they had, nothing about Carrington Financial Group moved without the press catching it, and the questions were already everywhere.

Henry Carrington's estranged daughter returns as Sole heiress. Enters a rushed wedding.

She returned with a little boy, Who is the father?

So many questions I didn't want to answer now. Denise would have seen the news, he was going to have questions too. For now I just wanted to attend the window.

The car stopped.

The venue was exactly what I should have expected, all high ceilings, expensive designs, media at the perimeter, securities, flowers that had probably cost more than my first apartment.

My father had planned all this, from beyond the grave.

The coordinator met me at the entrance, moved me through the side corridor, stopped at the door at the anteroom.

"Mr. Langston is already inside," she said. "Guests are seated and we're ready when you are."

I looked at the door.

"Give me a minute," I said.

She nodded and stepped back.

I stood in the corridor in a dress that had arrived at my hotel room at eight this morning, the slik gown clung to my body with delicate beadwork and I had put it on because I had run out of reasons not to.

I pushed the door open.

He was standing at the window with his back to me, jacket on, hands in his pocket. The room was quiet, morning light came through the glass and hit the floor in long strips and he hadn't heard me come in.

Then he turned and looked at me. His eyes moved over Mr once, and for a second something flickered in his eyes, before his mask slipped back into place.

"You're on time," he said.

"I considered not coming at all," I said.

"I'm sure you did." The corner of his mouth curved slightly. "You're here anyway."

"I had no choice." I crossed my arms. "The media already know about Leo. They're asking who the father is."

"I know." He said calmly.

"You're not worried about that?" I asked. "Going into this? That's going to the first question out of every journalist's mouth the second we walk out of this building..."

"Which is exactly why we're walking out of this building married." His voice was even. "The story changes the second you're Mrs. Langston. The questions doesn't disappear but everything becomes internal. That's what today is for."

"Legal protection," I said flatly.

"You can say that." He moved toward me and stopped in front of me. "You know for someone who doesn't want to get married, you sure do dress like you do."

"I had no choice," My voice came out sharper than I wanted. "Let's just get this over and done with."

The room was full when I walked in, the guests, the cameras positioned at the back, Daphne somewhere in the second row, trying to maintain her composure, Fiona near the front, hands folded, and Zake at the end of it.

He was standing at the front of the room, completely still like this was any other Saturday.

He watched Mr walk toward him the entire way.

I kept my chin up and walked and stopped in front of him.

I absorbed nothing of what the officiant said.

I said the words when I was supposed to say them. I held still when I was supposed to hold still. I was very good at performing composure and today I was giving it everything I had.

Then he took my hand.

He lifted it with both of his, one sliding the ring onto my finger, one wrapping around my hand after, holding it there. His thumb pressed lightly against my pulse point and I felt it like something deliberate, like he knew exactly where he'd put it.

Six years.

The weight of his hands was the same.

I kept my eyes on the officiant.

"You may now kiss the bride."

I turned to him.

He was already looking at me. That expression, controlled, steady, giving nothing away, except his eyes weren't as controlled.

I lifted my chin.

His hand came up to the side of my face, the same way it had six years ago in a hotel room I had spent a very long time not thinking about, and his mouth found mine.

The kiss didn't feel like nothing, it felt like a claim. His tongue swept against mine, hot and demanding and I melted, my lips parted on a gasp. He tasted the same as he did six years ago.

I pulled back first, breathless, my lips swollen. The guests exploded in applauses, but Zake's eyes stayed on me.

He leaned in slightly, mouth close to my ear, his voice low enough that only I could hear it.

"Welcome to the family," he said. "Mrs. Langston."